


All Your Soul, Unfading

by passionario



Category: xxxHoLic, 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Binghe Week, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, M/M, Slice of Life, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24077434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passionario/pseuds/passionario
Summary: After his mother died Luo Binghe doesn't know what to do. One day he finds himself in a strange shop, and its owner offers to fulfil his every wish.
Relationships: Original Luò Bīnghé/Original Shěn Qīngqiū
Comments: 56
Kudos: 204





	1. Unclear Path

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Вовек не угаснет душа твоя](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906964) by [passionario](https://archiveofourown.org/users/passionario/pseuds/passionario). 



> I wrote it back in December for LBH week, mostly because I thought about SJ as Yuko and YQY as Clow Reed. And well Bingge&Bingmei are perfect candidates for Watanuki and Shaoran if you know what I mean.
> 
> There is no actual plot, more slice of life drabbles about Bingbing being a good boy.
> 
> Beta is wonderful [Woljf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woljf/pseuds/Woljf) <3  
> For English translation I even decided to give it a name (it's from "Where You Are" by Michael Night).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you understand the price you pay?” Shen Jiu asked once.  
> Luo Binghe shook his head.

Luo Binghe didn’t understand the owner of the shop. He was like a many-faced god;  his despondency and indifference could turn into anger or joy, reminding of a stormy mountain  river, and Luo Binghe has not yet learned to guess what will come next — affection or punishment.

To the visitors of the shop, whom the owner called beggars behind closed doors, he introduced himself as Shen Qingqiu, and this name filled their house with autumn coolness. Others, real guests who came time after time and didn’t ask for anything, called him Shen Jiu.

Luo Binghe called him “master”.

He remembered how he first got here: also a beggar, even more miserable than those whom he managed to meet here over the past few years. His mother had just died, and Luo Binghe skipped school again. The thoughts swarming in his head drove him to get lost in the street noises. And then on a busy street, something pushed him forward, hit him under his knees, and Luo Binghe fell to the damp ground. A traditional house was hidden between the skyscrapers, surrounded on one side by a bamboo forest; how a real bamboo forest ended up in the center of Beijing, and even so dense? A fence separated them from the street, and people hurried past — it seemed they hadn’t noticed this strange place. Everything became surprisingly quiet as if the high fence that separated the courtyard from the street also blocked the noise, guarding this piece of history torn out of time.

And then Shen Qingqiu went out onto the veranda. A fan hid his face, leaving only the cold eyes. But even so, to Luo Binghe he was the most beautiful person ever. He was wrapped in heavy clothes from head to toe, and his hair falling down his shoulders caught glimpses of lanterns of the big city and surrounded him with a flickering haze. Shen Qingqiu looked like an actor from some historical dorama, not like a real person. After all, actors never seem real.

“Follow me,” Shen Qingqiu ordered and disappeared in the house.

Luo Binghe rose hastily, awkwardly shook himself and hurried after him.

He barely remembered the way but did remember the room in which they made their first deal: bright and spacious, with a sideboard made of light wood and a mountain landscape on the wall. The window looked out on a bamboo forest and the smell of foliage mixed with the smell of damp earth.

Shen Jiu told him about wishes and the price and laughed unpleasantly when Luo Binghe said that he had nothing, not even wishes.

“People are the most greedy creatures. Everyone wants something. Think, silly child, don't waste my time.”

Luo Binghe thought how quiet it was in this house, so quiet that he clearly heard the steady breathing of the owner. So quiet that all the thoughts that usually plagued him, all the pain, anguish and loneliness that cobwebbed him after the death of his mother, timidly froze, not daring to disturb the stern shop owner.

“I want to stay here,” Luo Binghe said hesitantly and was immediately scared by his insolence.

But Shen Jiu only looked at him thoughtfully, and then closed the fan and laid it exactly in the middle of the table at which they were sitting.

From his unexpected cold beauty, Luo Binghe froze even more.

“Can you cook?” Shen Jiu suddenly asked.

“Yes,” his voice  was thinner than a  mosquito’s buzz.

“You will take care of the house and cook for me. You probably go to school?” Shen Jiu drummed his fingers on the table. Luo Binghe nodded.

It seems that then they discussed some more details; Luo Binghe remembered poorly. Shen Jiu showed him the house and allocated a room — larger than the one where Luo Binghe lived with his mother, and certainly much better. It was simple: a bed, a desk, a wardrobe and a low bookcase with a vase full of fresh flowers on top.

“You can come here or move, I don't care. Until you change your mind, the shop will let you in.”

Luo Binghe took his few belongings from the shelter; they didn’t even notice that he was no longer there, and they didn’t ask at school either. Well, they did not even notice when he was skipping school either. Luo Binghe sometimes thought, what would happen if he dropped out of school, but then Shen Jiu asked him about literature or history, and Luo Binghe didn’t know the answers to these questions. He felt ashamed under the scornful cold gaze of Shen Jiu, so dumb and awkward. He opened textbooks, prepared his homework and tried his best; sometimes books or even scrolls would appear on his bookcase next to a vase in which flowers never wilted, and there was even more information than could be found on the Internet. This dry silent concern warmed Luo Binghe’s heart, and he always tried to read everything, asked questions when he didn’t understand something — and in response he received even more books.

In the shop, which seemed ten times larger inside than outside, there was an endless labyrinth of books in general: shelves along all the walls, and Luo Binghe sometimes wondered how old everything was here. There were both old folios and ordinary modern bestsellers, even newspaper binders.

Shen Jiu clearly thought that soon Luo Binghe, a stupid child, would get bored and leave, but Luo Binghe would not leave. They lived together for almost two years, and during this time Luo Binghe learned a lot about Shen Jiu but never came close to unravelling him.

Shen Jiu was able to fulfill almost any wish, and this made him in Luo Binghe’s eyes similar to the omnipotent heroes of the legends. But also Shen Jiu was the capricious and absurd shop owner, he just traded not quite ordinary goods. Most of the guests caused him irritation, which Shen Jiu always hid behind the politeness, fans and beautiful clothes that surrounded him with the divine aura. All these wraps of painted silk, brocade and velvet made his beauty almost repulsive.

But in household chores he was absolutely helpless: cooking, cleaning, washing and so on, and therefore Shen Jiu hated it all. Luo Binghe found it amusing and even charming.

He brought tea to guests, listened to their requests: shameful things and stupid, impossible and ordinary. Luo Binghe found the most amazing thing in all this was not that Shen Jiu could fulfill these wishes, but the price he took. An old tennis ball, a hairband or a breakfast box — all this found its place in a large old closet.

“Do you understand the price you pay?” Shen Jiu asked once.

Luo Binghe shook his head.

They sat on the veranda overlooking the backyard and watched the carps swim in the pond. A small teapot was steaming between them and there was a plate of cakes that Luo Binghe had prepared the day before.

“Perhaps too small?” He added uncertainty, with a little thought.

“Fool,” Shen Jiu shrugged indifferently and took one cake. Now he was in ordinary clothes, soft pants and a dark green sweater with a high collar, long hair combed in a loose braid. His eyes, tenacious and cold, froze on Luo Binghe's face. “How much does this cake cost? Not the ingredients that you used to create it, but the cake itself.”

Luo Binghe also took one and hesitantly bit, feeling the sweetness of the cream and a gentle biscuit. He didn’t know. He estimated his efforts by how Shen Jiu smiled in satisfaction like a well-fed cat, asked for more and demanded to repeat some dishes. Luo Binghe could manage without any problems only with simple rice.

“For me it seems like nothing at all.”

“Fool,” Shen Jiu repeated. “You are hopeless.”

He pushed the plate aside and stood, touching the teapot. It fell, and tea spilled out of the spout, filling the air with the light floral scent. Luo Binghe set it back, but Shen Jiu was already gone.

Luo Binghe lay on his back on the wooden floor heated by the afternoon sun, and covered his eyes. A strange stupor seized his whole body. His wish always seemed small to him, insignificant. Others longed for good luck, love or to hide a crime. Yet Luo Binghe’s wish was even a little burdensome: it was Shen Jiu who rather did him a favour and endured him. In exchange Luo Binghe simply cleaned up, cooked and walked on small errands. Was that enough? Anyone could do this.

Anyone except Shen Jiu.

His heart sank and began beating faster; for the first time since the death of his mother, Luo Binghe thought that someone needed him. He got up, collected the cups, the teapot and cakes on a tray and carried it all into the kitchen. One moody shop owner still needed to be fed dinner.


	2. Jade Pendant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luo Binghe had never seen a real dragon before. He thought they would be bigger.

High school began in the third year of Luo Binghe's life in the shop. To be honest he didn’t want to study further, but as soon as he said that, a lot of emotions were reflected on Shen Jiu's face: contempt, condemnation and even envy. So Luo Binghe chose a school nearby and submitted documents there.

He didn’t ask why Shen Jiu rarely leaves the shop. Occasionally, he went away on matters related to the fulfillment of a wish, but recently he more often sent Luo Binghe with detailed instructions. If he was burdened by such a life as he was burdened by interaction with people, Luo Binghe didn’t know. He had nothing against picking up strange bundles in the middle of the night in a suburb of Beijing or burying baby plastic hairpins under an old oak tree in a park on the fifth day of the month in the rain.

Luo Binghe now had no free time at all, but he liked it: he got up at five in the morning, prepared breakfast and lunch, finished his homework and hurried to school. He even made friends, but he didn’t go anywhere with them after school. Evenings he spent doing household chores and homework again; surprisingly, sometimes Shen Jiu even condescended to help. He read Luo Binghe's textbooks as they sat in the heated kitchen, and Luo Binghe memorized the giant texts like this. He went to bed after midnight, if there was no need to rush somewhere.

Sometimes visitors came even in the middle of the night, and often they were not humans. It was amazingly easy for Luo Binghe to accept the existence of spirits, gods and other supernatural creatures. Shen Jiu had a completely different attitude towards their visits: he told Luo Binghe where to get drinks and the right food, so as not to offend an important guest. Some came for help, and others just for a drink or to play xiangqi.

Luo Binghe remembered the raven god, whose arrival was always signified the blackened sky and the flapping of hundreds of wings, and his sister, the spirit of a mountain river, so beautiful that gods had stolen her face. There was also a doctor, often asking for rare magic herbs, and his deer horns glimmered silver in the moonlight. And a young man with a snake tail, whom Shen Jiu refused every time, but he stubbornly returned again and again.

But most of all he remembered how one Sunday morning a middle-aged woman came into the yard. Her clothes were solid and clean, but not new, and her hair was slightly grayed. She seemed to him very kind and a little unhappy, but small wrinkles around her mouth revealed that she often smiled

Shen Jiu went out wearing a home cardigan instead of traditional clothes that impressed people, and immediately bowed respectfully. Luo Binghe had never before seen his proud master treat someone with such reverence and, taken by surprise, awkwardly bowed after him.

“Please don’t, old friend, such ceremonies are unnecessary. Let's go in, I know how you do not like the cold.”

“Binghe, bring us the tea that Mu Qingfang left last week, and almond cookies,” Shen Jiu asked, “to my office.”

For beggars, there was a room with windows to the far corner of the courtyard, and with his guests Shen Jiu often sat on the veranda by the pond with carps, or in the spacious living room that adjoined the kitchen. Sometimes he helped Luo Binghe to study in his office, but honestly, Luo Binghe seemed to be cleaning up there more often than Shen Jiu used his office for real.

He brought the tray with tea and snacks, and Shen Jiu pointed him to the sofa. Luo Binghe obediently sat down.

“You ask a lot. The gods don’t like when I meddle in their affairs,” Shen Jiu began to slowly pour tea. Luo Binghe took out a beautiful set of English porcelain with buttercup design.

“I ask you, and I’m not a mere mortal. And I ask you to intervene.”

“I can’t intervene,” Shen Jiu abruptly interrupted the woman and handed her a cup. “But I can fulfill a wish. Bring to me Longnü, and let her speak for herself. The wish must be uttered by those who keep it in their hearts. Try the tea, it should calm the spirit.”

“Then I...” The woman began, but Shen Jiu pursed his lips and pushed a plate of cookies toward her.

“Even Binghe knows that everything has a price. And even the gods have to pay.”

“I will fulfill all your conditions,” the woman frowned and took one cookie. She ate slowly, and then turned and thanked Luo Binghe.

He didn’t quite understand what he was witnessing. Was this woman, who seemed so ordinary, as if she was one of the teachers in his school, really a goddess? He saw some: the raven god and the god of forest paths, and even demons, but all of them looked completely different.

“I want happiness for her. Times have changed so much, and yet her father doesn’t accept it.”

“You know how bizarre such wishes work. We don’t want the death of the dragon king,” Shen Jiu politely smiled, as if he was joking, but Luo Binghe knew him enough to understand this wasn’t a joke. And by the way, the woman hunched over, clutching a cup in her hand, she was also well aware about the peculiarities of the shop.

“I want Longnü to have a clear mind in this matter so she can make a choice that will appeal to her heart.”

“With it, I can help,” Shen Jiu's smile softened a little. “But in return, I need you to return something. I think you understand what I mean.”

At that moment, Shen JIu was not looking at his guest, but at Luo Binghe, and so intently that he felt uneasy. 

“But it's just a bauble.”

“Guanyin,” Shen Jiu sighed, and Luo Binghe involuntarily opened his mouth and stared at him. Shen Jiu grimaced displeased and shook his head slightly. “I'm embarrassed to hear that from you. I will fulfill your wish. Come back in ten days, I need time to prepare.”

“Thank you, Shen Qingqiu,” the goddess stood up, and for a moment Luo Binghe thought that her silhouette was twofold: he saw both their guest, a tired but kind woman, and a thousand-armed goddess in a golden crown. 

“Binghe will show you the exit.”

It was strange to become a guide for such a powerful deity, and she clearly knew the way. Luo Binghe didn’t know whether he should say anything, so he politely bowed goodbye.

Already in the yard, Guanyin turned to him and smiled warmly and sadly, “I'm sorry, Binghe.”

“Why?” He asked stupidly.

But she had already left, or dissolved in the air, leaving only the sweet smell of vanilla and almond cookies.

On Wednesday a full moon happened — a day earlier than it should have been, and scientists and astrologers enthusiastically discussed this through all channels. Shen Jiu woke Luo Binghe in the middle of the night and ordered him to bring a bamboo leaf from their forest, the one that would catch his attention.

He rushed him, and Luo Binghe went as he was, barefoot and in his pajamas. Shen Jiu waited for his return on the veranda, and Luo Binghe felt his eyes on his back, even when he went deep into the forest that the trees must have blocked any sight of him.

A cool wind rustled among the narrow leaves. Luo Binghe could smell the fading autumn grass, and the ground chilled his feet. Shen Jiu said that he could take any leaf and return, but for some reason, Luo Binghe was sure that it was impossible to choose so simply. He examined the forest, in which he managed to remember every centimeter, and waited, listening to the wind.

“Binghe,” Shen Jiu called from the veranda, quietly, but in the eternal silence of their yard, his voice sounded clear. Between the thin bamboo trunks flashed the glow of a lamp. “We don't have much time.”

“Coming,” Luo Binghe called out and abruptly turned to the house.

From his movement the bamboo fluttered, and one leaf landed right in his palm. Closing his fingers cautiously, Luo Binghe hastened to return. Shen Jiu stood on the veranda, wrapped in a purple shawl and holding an oil lamp. The fire trembled, making shadows dance on the boards and on the ground, tangling under Luo Binghe’s steps.

“Here,” He opened his hand, but there was nothing. He froze in confusion; he could swear that he felt a cool leaf in his palm a few seconds ago.

“Perfect,” Shen Jiu straightened his hair as if nothing had happened and with a gesture of a magician pulled a leaf out of his curls. “Thank you. Go to sleep, you have school tomorrow.”

Luo Binghe hesitated, not knowing whether he should say something, and in the end, Shen Jiu gave him a cuff on the nape and disappeared into the house, waving the ends of the shawl, and took the trembling light with him.

Suddenly a long car signal exploded in the night. Luo Binghe flinched in surprise and hurried inside.

A week later, Guanyin returned, and a young girl, maybe twenty years old or so, followed her like a shadow. She was beautiful and thoughtful. Her hair, styled beautifully, was held by a pin with a large pearl, and in comparison, her clothes seemed too simple.

This time Shen Jiu wore heavy silk robes. Dragons were gliding along his sleeves when he moved.

Guanyin and the girl bowed their heads, and Shen Jiu nodded too, greeting them. Luo Binghe, sweeping the yard, made an awkward twist resembling a bow.

“Longnü,” Shen Jiu addressed the girl. “Take it and carry it with you. When its purpose is fulfilled, the leaf will fly back. Guanyin will pay your price.”

“I could give you much more,” the goddess took out a small cloth parcel from her pocket and handed it to Shen Jiu. “This thing doesn’t have my blessing.”

“You could,” Shen Jiu calmly agreed, “But I would not pay for your generosity.”

“Thank you, Shen-Laoshi,” Girl’s voice was unexpectedly low and deep, even reverberating.

“I hope everything goes well,” Shen Jiu answered, but Luo Binghe knew that he didn't care.

The girl with the hairpin suddenly twisted completely inhumanly, and then her human body cracked like an eggshell; a dragon curled up in their yard. Guanyin stroked the shiny scales and stepped on one of the coils, using it like a step, and sat down on the dragon’s neck, holding the twisted horns. It looked a little strange: an ordinary middle-aged woman riding a dragon. Luo Binghe had never seen a real dragon before. He thought they would be bigger.

But then the dragon ascended into the sky. The strength of the take-off was such that Luo Binghe was thrown to the fence.

“The gods are cruel,” Shen Jiu mockingly told him when Luo Binghe came up, brushing himself off. “Take it to the vault and put it in an ebony box with a red emblem on the lid.”

Shen Jiu put the parcel Guanyin gave him in Luo Binghe’s palm. It seemed strangely warm to Luo Binghe; how was it possible if Shen Jiu's hands always remained cold? This warmth seemed to come from within, from the object hidden in the parcel.

“We expect Liu Qingge and Mu Qingfang for dinner, so you need to cook for more people,” Shen Jiu's angry voice destroyed his stupor. “Hurry up, Binghe.”

...He felt the warmth in his palm for several more hours.


	3. Panacea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luo Binghe hardly managed to realize that this was not a dream, but the real gods were sitting next to him and asking for help — him, not Shen Jiu.

Once, after he came back to the shop from school, Luo Binghe heard laughter and voices. Going around the house, he found Shen Jiu on the veranda with the raven god, a beautiful woman, not dressed for the weather — for three days the snowfall didn’t stop in Beijing, and she was in flowing clothes made of light blue silk — and a strange creature, either a round rabbit or a hamster that was too big, and who spoke in a human voice and drank along with the others.

Shen Jiu wrapped himself in a fur cape and was warming his hands on a cup of hot wine — still looking displeased and unhappy.

“There you are,” he greeted Luo Binghe. “Bring me some more wine.”

Bowing respectfully to the guests, Luo Binghe slipped into the house. The kitchen was in chaos, and for a good half an hour he only put things in order. Then Luo Binghe went to the pantry to find Shen Jiu's favourite berry wine, so sweet that only he could drink it.

“Sit with us, child,” the woman said as Luo Binghe placed new snacks on the veranda and collected empty bottles to take out the trash.

Luo Binghe hadn’t met her before, but it seems she was also a longtime acquaintance. Shen Jiu introduced her as Qi Qingqi, the goddess of the mountain peak.

For a while they were making small talk, pattering names of mutual acquaintances that Luo Binghe had never heard, or names of television programs, and a discussion of weather and a century-old crop. The weird animal dozed, curled up on a pillow, and it smelled of wine no less than others. Luo Binghe listened, wondering how many years Shen Jiu had lived and who he was — but in fact, he never needed an answer.

“They need your help, Binghe,” Shen Jiu suddenly interrupted their chatter and smiled unpleasantly, “Of course, not for free.”

“Why should I pay him?” The raven god was indignant.

“As long as he is a part of this shop, any of his actions for the sake of fulfilling the wishes of others has a price,” Shen Jiu explained in a tone of a tired school teacher. “How many times do I have to repeat the same thing if you don’t learn anything. Has the wind blown all your brains out?”

The raven god swung at him, but Qi Qingqi grabbed his hand.

“It's about your sister, Liu Qingge, calm down. This is not our first time in your shop, Shen Qingqiu, and we know what we should do.”

Qi Qinqqi turned out to be a goddess on the very mountain where Liu Mingyan’s river flowed.

“Your sister is no less dear to me than you.” Qi Qingqi straightened the folds of her robes, darkened with twilight — blue flowed into lilac and deep orange, and gold-woven stars lit up in the belt. “If Shen Qingqiu says that the boy can help us, I am ready to pay for it.”

“I hope it's worth it,” the raven god grumbled.

“Shut up,” snapped Jiu in exasperation. “Leave your doubts about the time when I will need your services. Binghe, do you know that Liu Mingyan is so beautiful that the gods, envious of her beauty, stole her face?” 

Luo Binghe nodded. Brother and sister Liu visited them many times, and Liu Mingyan’s face was invariably hidden by a veil, smoky as a water fog at the waterfall.

Qi Qingqi sighed and continued instead of Shen Jiu, “An avalanche recently descended on our mountain, and snow, water and ice destroyed several trees. It turned out that the spider queen left several of her associates there, and, infuriated, she abducted Liu Mingyan. She is willing to let her go in exchange for her beauty, for her face — but Liu Mingyan does not have it.”

“My crows can peck all her children and associates to death,” Liu Qingge grimaced, “and I just take my sister.”

“And you will start a war that none of us needs,” Qi Qingqi pursed her lips. “We cannot give Liu Mingyan’s face, because then it will be lost forever. The spider queen will devour it to get its beauty. As long as Liu Mingyan’s face is kept in the heavenly treasury, it’s even better for all of us.”

“But what do you want from me?” Luo Binghe blinked in confusion.

He got used to the fulfillment of bizarre wishes, but this was maybe too much for him. Luo Binghe hardly managed to realize that this was not a dream, but the real gods were sitting next to him and asking for help — him, not Shen Jiu.

“The spider queen demands human sacrifice in exchange for my sister,” the raven god smiled unpleasantly, and Luo Binghe swallowed.

Suddenly a fan appeared in Shen Jiu’s hand out of nowhere, and he hit Liu Qingge’s head with it.

“Gods,” he snorted. “The spider queen doesn't need a blood sacrifice. She offered a duel: a god and a mortal against her two champions.”

“I don't know how to fight,” Luo Binghe was even more confused.

“You won't need to.”

Shen Jiu looked at Luo Binghe thoughtfully and then dipped his finger in the wine and smeared it on Luo Binghe's forehead, drawing something. A drop of wine rolled down the bridge of his nose and froze on his cheek. For a second, the place where Shen Jiu touched Luo Binghe had flared up, as if imprinting under his skin with frantic heat, but everything immediately passed.

“Liu Qingge will pay when the case is completed,” Shen Jiu continued quite casually. “Otherwise, it is impossible to name a fair price. Qi Qingqi”, he turned to the goddess, and she took out a white flower from the folds of her skirts. Its petals flickered faintly. A subtle scent spread in the air, which Luo Binghe found vaguely familiar. “Take it to the storage. On the far rack near the qin there is a vase filled with water. Leave the flower there and come back. You must handle it before Shang Qinghua’s magic is gone. Wake up,” he then stroked the back of a strange beast, and it yawned, showing sharp white teeth.

After Luo Binghe left the flower, he changed his clothes and for some reason took a flashlight. He had no idea on how and where the gods, spirits and spider queens live, and he didn’t really want to find out. He would never live like that anyway. Luo Binghe wasn’t interested in outsiders; three years ago his world narrowed down to this shop and its owner, and that was enough for him.

Qi Qingqi hung on Luo Binghe's neck a small bottle sealed with wax.

“This water is from the source of Liu Mingyan’s river. It will help you find her.”

Shen Jiu picked up the animal from the pillow and laid it in Luo Binghe's hands. He fumbled, muttering something, and hid his face in the bend of Luo Binghe’s elbow.

“The magic of Shang Qinghua will take you to the dimension of the Queen of Spiders and vice versa. But you don’t have much time if you want to go back and forth the easy way.”

Liu Qingge's laughter merged into a croak, and then a raven hovered onto Luo Binghe's shoulder, grasping tenaciously on his clothes — so hard that his claws ripped open his jacket and left marks on his skin.

“Whatever happens,” Shen Jiu covered his face with a fan, “remember that nothing in this world happens by accident.”

“Such a bore,” the beast squeaked — Shang Qinghua they called him, and the world around Luo Binghe faded.

...he walked forward in pitch darkness, spurred by a faint glow from the bottle given by Qi Qingqi. Luo Binghe didn’t understand how much time had passed. His senses were dull, he could barely feel the raven claws digging into his shoulder and the feathers tickling his cheek and ear.

At some point Luo Binghe stopped, too tired, and immediately got bogged down in darkness. It was thick and viscous, like honey, and Luo Binghe closed his eyes, finally abandoning the world around him.

“Fool,” the raven croaked hoarsely and took off, and Luo Binghe’s cheek was hot with pain. Luo Binghe touched it, feeling something warm and wet — probably his blood.

And then light trembled in front of them, and the darkness finally dissipated, hiding in the far corners of the huge hall in which they found themselves.

“Welcome. I'm tired of waiting for you.”

A ladder started at Luo Binghe's feet, snaking forward a good hundred steps. It led to a huge throne, on which a girl was reclining, relaxed, barely covered in scarlet transparent silk. Her black hair was scattered around and stretched in all directions — the spider queen was the heart of her web. Halfway to the throne the hair was wrapped around a thin figure. It was probably Liu Mingyan. The bottle on Luo Binghe's chest shone brighter, and it seemed to bring more light into the hall.

“Sha Hualing,” Liu Qingge’s feathers fell, and he looked angry at the spider queen, “Return my sister. She is not to blame for the avalanche.”

“Maybe, but it's so boring, not blaming anyone at all. Moreover, her beauty is legendary. With such a face, she could capture the sky, but she chose the fate of a miserable rivulet? She is not worthy of her face.”

“She has no face,” Liu Qingge squeezed the hilt of his sword, “Or did you forget?”

“I was hoping you would bring it from the heavenly treasury.”

The queen of spiders slid off the throne and in an eye blink appeared next to them. The red silk that entangled her slipped to the floor, exposing her body, and Luo Binghe looked away, found Liu Mingyang — the spider queen’s hair pulled her body down the steps without pity as if she were a doll.

Luo Binghe saw a vein beating furiously on Liu Qingge’s neck. The raven god was famous for his short temper and passion for fights, but he loved his sister and could not stand when she was treated badly. Shen Jiu said that he fought with other gods for her face every day until the gods had mercy and set a deadline — Luo Binghe didn’t understand for what exactly. Liu Mingyan could not be blamed for the fact that she was born so beautiful, she did nothing wrong.

“I will take one feather from your wing,” Liu Qingge said nothing, “and you will fight my best warrior. You,” the spider queen turned to Luo Binghe, “will give me your magic.” Luo Binghe flinched. Magic? Magic was with others, and he only cleaned and cooked. It was Shen Jiu who did miracles. “Such a sweet child, how unfortunate that the sorcerer will demand too high a price for you. If you get tired of him, come to me, I can give you much more than this cripple.”

“Shut up!” shouted Liu Qingge, and his voice thundered in the hall, shaking the stone floor. “Enough, Sha Hualing. You have no right.”

“Sweet boy,” the spider queen purred, “look at me.”

She clung to Luo Binghe with her whole body and unexpectedly kissed him on the lips. Luo Binghe’s head exploded in wild pain where Shen Jiu had drawn the mysterious sign. Luo Binghe screamed and pushed her away, and then fell to his knees, wiping sudden tears.

“Delicious taste,” the spider queen laughed, and it sounded as if a thousand bells rang at once. Luo Binghe felt even sicker. “It's your turn.”

How it all ended, Luo Binghe did not know. He lost consciousness even before Liu Qingge had time to draw his sword.

Each time he woke up, the world spinned, not letting him know where he was. Was it his old apartment or the orphanage? Or a room in the shop... Sometimes cold fingers touched his face, tearing Luo Binghe out of the fever that tormented him.

“Finally,” said a familiar displeased voice, when the world around Luo Binghe stopped going crazy. He tried to turn his head but had no strength left. “Hush.”

Shen Jiu grabbed his shoulders and helped him lean on the head of the bed, and then brushed the tangled hair away from his forehead.

“The spider queen has poisoned you, thinking that it will be easier for her to capture you. Stupid bitch,” Shen Jiu wiped Luo Binghe’s sweat with a wet cloth. “This poison kills quickly, and there is no antidote to it.”

“But how…”

“There is no antidote if you are a magical creature. This foolish girl thought you were a sorcerer too since I kept you with me. Liu Qingge said that she was begging to give your body to her, thinking that you are already dead. She didn’t even understand that she took my magic, and not yours.”

“And…”

“He and Liu Mingyang are doing well. Sleep, Binghe. You will not die, but the consequences will be unpleasant and, unfortunately, I can not alleviate them.”

Near the table in a vase was a fragrant flower that Qi Qingqi had given them. Luo Binghe took a deep breath, taking in its scent, and closed his eyes.

He dreamed of a bamboo forest and a pond with carps.


	4. Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everything in the world has its purpose, have you not learned yet? We will know when the time comes.”

Ning Yingying was probably the only one Luo Binghe could call his friend at school. He was not particularly concerned about relationships with other students, all these intrigues, gossip, and so on. He simply tried to study so even if Shen Jiu could not be proud of him, at least he wouldn’t look at Luo Binghe with such contemptuous bewilderment. Having little knowledge of the modern education system, he nevertheless  cared quite a lot about grades.

When Luo Binghe was sick for two weeks after the Liu Mingyan incident, Ning Yingying was the only one who was worried about him. By some miracle she managed to call the shop. Luo Binghe didn't even know that they had a phone or that she knew the phone number! But one day, when Luo Binghe was already strong enough to cook, the phone rang in the kitchen: anold one, with a spring cord, it hung right on the wall and rang deafeningly loud.

There was no phone on this wall before.

“I think it's for you. Take the phone already, this ringing gives me a headache,” Shen Jiu leaned against the doorframe.

Luo Binghe reached out to answer. 

“Hello?”

“A-Luo!”

Ning Yingying's voice was almost louder than the bell; she was chattering and chattering, and suddenly Luo Binghe felt calm. She was always like that: noisy, but smiling and kind. She often cried for nothing which Luo Binghe couldn’t understand, but she was also easy to cheer up. Once she even treated him with homemade cookies, which Luo Binghe politely chewed, but since then he tried to treat her first. Ning Yingying didn’t know how to cook at all, and at home ec she aimed to create some kind of biological weapon.

In general, Ning Yingying was a completely normal girl.

Christmas lights came on and went out, and on the first day of spring Ning Yingying stood at the gate of the shop. Luo Binghe was hanging carpets in the yard to dedust them and didn’t even notice her at first. He was so used to the fact that people sometimes froze while their hearts fluttered with hesitation, but usually they just moved on.

“A-Luo?” Ning Yingying called. “Do you live here?”

She went through the gate, the noise of the street following her in for a second, but a dense curtain closed them from the world again.

“Yes, and I also work here. This is a shop. Just wait, the owner will see you soon.”

“I'm already here.”

Luo Binghe turned at his voice and suddenly saw Shen Jiu through Ning Yingying's eyes — as he had once seen him that first time, but since then he saw much more, and therefore the effect disappeared. But now Luo Binghe was startled by the beauty in front of him.

“Come with me. Binghe, you know better what your friend likes.”

“Come with him,” Luo Binghe smiled encouragingly at Ning Yingying, who nervously fingered her gloves. “Master Shen will help you.”

“But I don't need anything,” Ning Yingying said. “I don’t even have money with me.”

“You couldn’t enter the shop otherwise,” Luo Binghe took her hand and pulled her toward the house. “Come on, Master Shen doesn't like to wait.”

He left Ning Yingying in the room, and when he returned, found her bitterly weeping and wiping her eyes with an elegantly embroidered handkerchief. Shen Jiu fanned himself and waited for Ning Yingying to calm down. Finally, she said very quietly, “I think I bring misfortune to people.”

“It’s true,” Shen Jiu calmly confirmed, and Luo Binghe looked at him angrily. Sometimes he wanted Shen Jiu to be just a little more human, maybe kinder, but then wouldn’t he cease to be himself?

“Even A-Luo got sick after I shared cookies with him. And grandma... And all these accidents on the streets. If I press the buttons at the traffic lights, they break after, and...” Ning Yingying sobbed again but kept herself from crying. “I tried wearing gloves, but that doesn't help.”

“Because the reason is not so simple. If your skin was the source of the trouble, it would be easy enough to wash it off every day,” Shen Jiu laid an open fan between them on the table. “Touch it.”

A spirit gave him this fan a year ago. Luo Binghe thought, was it possible that it was enchanted and repelled misfortune?

“I don't want to ruin your thing,” Ning Yingying said uncertainly.

“I want to try something,” Shen Jiu softened; just a little, but she stopped being so scared.

Ning Yingying’s small fingers froze over the fan, and then she quickly brushed the very tips of her fingers on the lotus petals painted on it only to immediately pull her hand away. From his place, Luo Binghe saw the petals turn black and seemingly burn, although the fabric remained untouched.

“You will never be able to pay us off to remove the curse — although, it’s not a curse in the first place. Sometimes people are just born that way. The good luck that should balance your bad luck went to someone else,” the corners of Shen Jiu’s lips curved into a smile .

“But I have nothing,” Ning Yingying repeated. “I can’t…”

“Here you pay differently,” Shen Jiu ran his palm over the fan, and the invisible flame, which nibbled on lotus petals, destroyed the fan in seconds, leaving only a heap of ash on the table. “But I cannot give you deliverance the way you want it. No one in this world can.”

Tears once again rolled down Ning Yingying 's cheeks, but now she at least didn’t sob.

“But it’s possible to improve your condition. You are right that your failure spreads through touch, but it is impossible to live without touching anything at all in this world. Everything is connected, and no matter how hard you try, there will be casualties. But you can borrow some good luck. Quite a bit from someone who is gifted with it in abundance. For example, Binghe.”

“I'm not so happy,” Luo Binghe objected.

“Do not confuse happiness and good luck.” Judging by his tone, mentally Shen Jiu rolled his eyes but kept his face calm in front of Ning Yingying. “Bring me the silver medallion, it should be in a wooden box just at the entrance to the storage, on the top shelf. And scissors.”

Once Luo Binghe brought everything and set it on the table, Shen Jiu opened the medallion and smeared the ash from the fan inside it.

“Cut a lock of your hair and put it here. Not too much, we don’t want you to suffer,” Shen Jiu stared at Luo Binghe. It seems that for the first time Luo Binghe examined the colour of his eyes: not just grey, but like a heavy November sky, just before the rain.

Non-human, because no man can know so much.

Luo Binghe cut off a short strand and put it in the medallion, and after that Shen Jiu put it in Ning Yingying 's palm.

“Don't take it off.”

“What about the price?” Ning Yingying squeezed the medallion and raised her big eyes full of tears to Shen Jiu. 

“Your promise will be your price, but the time to fulfill it has not yet come. You will understand yourself.”

Ning Yingying hung the medallion around her neck and reached for the bowl of sweets that Luo Binghe brought.

After that incident, she sometimes came around — just to visit. Shen Jiu said that the shop allowed it because it was waiting for the payment.

“But what did she promise?” Luo Binghe asked one evening when they were drinking tea after dinner. He didn’t care about ordinary people with their problems, but Ning Yingying was his friend.

“Everything in the world has its purpose, have you not learned yet? We will know when the time comes.”

The first year of high school was coming to an end. After the spring festival, Luo Binghe and Ning Yingying with classmates were cleaning the floor allotted to them and chatting. Ning Yingying said that they should go to a cafe or karaoke or an aquarium. She loved spending time with everyone and always tried to include Luo Binghe in. And he always hesitated and evaded, not wanting to offend her with a harsh refusal.

While they were cleaning, the sky outside turned black. The booming thunder silenced everyone; the winding lightning reminded Luo Binghe of a dragon.

“I felt like there was a shake,” one of the girls said. The floor under Luo Binghe’s feet trembled slightly. “An earthquake! Run!”

Everyone was shouting and shoving, and in the bustle Luo Binghe and Ning Yingying ran into each other. At the same time, the whole building shook, and Ning Yingying flew off to the wall, and Luo Binghe crashed into the window.

Falling hurt.


	5. Ascending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You touched so many lives, Binghe, and changed them all. You are more than you think, and you are still very young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus, I was busy with work, life and procrastination.

Waking up in his bed after a sudden blackness became almost familiar. Funny, this only happened a second time.

The last time, after the incident with the queen of spiders, Luo Binghe felt bad. But now he didn’t feel anything, as if his consciousness had been pulled out his body or as if he was imprisoned in a sensory deprivation chamber. Even his vision was blurry. The ceiling has long been painted, and Luo Binghe could barely get a sight of the spots from the crumbling plaster.

Then the edge of a wide sleeve glimpsed before his eyes. The picture moved, and Luo Binghe saw Shen Jiu. He was pale, dark circles under his eyes, and with bloodstains on his cuff.

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked.

Luo Binghe saw his own hands on top of the blanket. Both were bandaged, and one seemed to be in a cast. Looking at himself Luo Binghe thought that he should be in a lot of pain, but he felt nothing as if his body was not his anymore.

“No,” even his voice sounded alien, quiet and broken like a dried leaf that is already crumbling around the edges.

“There was an earthquake. You fell from the second floor window.”

“I ...” Luo Binghe blinked. Or maybe not, everything just suddenly darkened, and then he saw Shen Jiu again.

”There are a lot of crows on the streets. One saw you were in trouble, and through her eyes Liu Qingge saw it too. He and Liu Mingyan paid their debt and saved your life.”

“I don't feel anything,” Luo Binghe whispered helplessly.

Shen Ju stood up and approached; his long hair was combed in a loose braid.

“Liu Qingge and Liu Mingyan shared their blood with you. You don’t feel it yet but your body begins to change; Binghe,” Shin Jiu took Luo Binghe’s hand into his, and this gesture was so strangely affectionate, so much not like his usual behaviour, that Luo Binghe was belatedly scared. But even worse was that he didn’t feel Shen Jiu’s touch. Shen Jiu continued, “And Ning Yingying paid her price too. This girl shared half of your pain.”

“No,” Luo Binghe concentrated and tried to move, but he couldn't. He probably started to cry — Shen Jiu held out his hand, and his fingers were wet.

“This was her price. Do you really think that it would be cheap? You saved her life. Ning Yingying got off only with bruises, and your soul, already flying away, was caught by the queen of spiders. But alive you seemed more interesting to her, so she gave your soul to Liu Mingyang and she brought it to me. You touched so many lives, Binghe, and changed them all. You are more than you think, and you are still very young.”

“No,” Luo Binghe repeated.

“Stupid child,” Shen Jiu's smile was also unusual, soft and sad.

He laid Luo Binghe back, and the world again narrowed to the ceiling with its fuzzy spots and the sleeves that came into view.

“Have some rest.”

And Shen Jiu left Luo Binghe alone.

Luo Binghe remained in that strange state, neither a dream nor a reality. There was no pain, no feverish visions — emptiness, nothing, primordial chaos. Sometimes Shen Jiu came and talked with him, but Luo Binghe didn’t remember anything at all or simply didn’t understand. There were Liu Mingyan’s smoky veil and sobs of Ning Yingying, and even the raven god’s grumpy voice. But all this happened to another Luo Binghe, the one that was his broken body.

And as myths tell, life was born in the primordial chaos. Through the vacuum that surrounded Luo Binghe, a voice broke: not Shen Jiu’s, but an old creaky one.

“No wonder damned Shen Qingqiu adopted you so gladly. He immediately saw your potential, what you can be, or not, if he puts an apron on you and leaves you in the kitchen. Aren't you tired of kneeling, boy?”

“Who are you?“ Luo Binghe frowned, or thought he was frowning because he still didn't know if he was awake or not.

“Just a harmless old man who spends his days in someone else's oblivion.”

Luo Binghe stepped forward, looking around, and little by little the darkness dissipated. The twilight revealed dead grass with glimpses of a narrow path, and bamboo stalks around. Luo Binghe went to the shop, but there was no Shen Jiu waiting for him on the veranda, only a hunched old man in once luxurious but now worn-out clothes. Like Shen Qingqiu, he looked ripped out of time.

Were everything around less grey, Binghe could have believed that he really was standing in the courtyard of the shop.

And here he still could move.

“A god gave you his blood, boy, thus awakening the power that was always inside you. Your body is changing, and your mind is trapped. But I can prepare you,” The old man waved his finger, “I can make you great if you want. You will become a sorcerer, stronger than Shen Qingqiu with his cheap tricks, stronger than the blatant god that gave you blood. You can become stronger than all of them,” The old man spoke more often, with the greed that Luo Binghe often saw in the shop’s beggars. Ordinary people and unfortunate people, murderers, thieves, they all dreamed that their problems would simply disappear, that they would become omnipotent after they gave an old hairpin to the eccentric fellow in ancient clothes, or buried a few copper pennies by the road.

“But I don't need it,” Luo Binghe answered, finally.

“Fool, everyone needs strength, and power, and fear. Do you want to spend your whole life crawling on your knees with a rag? Running stupid errands for Shen Qingqiu?” The old man almost spat out Shen Jiu’s nickname as if he were offended by the need to speak it. “Do you want to rot like me?”

As soon as he said it, the world was filled with the smell of decay and death, so thick that Luo Binghe became sick.

“Think, boy, whether you want to live like this or not. You have been locked up here anyway and you cannot go anywhere. So, why not try? Then it will not be necessary to wait, and the walls around will collapse.”

The old man laughed, and his whole hunched body shook. Luo Binghe even thought he was about to fall, so hard he swayed. The old man stopped laughing and smiled, showing his blackened teeth.

“Think, boy, and find me.” And he vanished into thin air.

Luo Binghe touched the wooden pillar on the veranda. Usually, the wood was warm and a little rough, and in the rain it was smooth and slippery. But here it felt like cardboard or plastic to Luo Binghe’s touch. This shop was like a snow globe.

Inside the house was almost the same. Luo Binghe's room lacked a vase of flowers and books, and Shen Jiu's presence was not felt anywhere. There were no pantries, where they stored things given as payment, and in the kitchen there was neither a stove nor an oven.

Pouring himself a glass of water, Luo Binghe sat at the table and drank. Water has no taste, but this one had, of dust and sour milk.

The world in which he found himself was a glass toy and Luo Binghe thought that it might indeed be better to break the glass. He seemed to be good at this.

“I'm glad you changed your mind,” an old man appeared at the table opposite him. “You can call me teacher.”

“Better tell me your name,” Luo Binghe asked.

“Meng Mo, boy. I am the master of dreams.”

In the grey world there was no need for rest or food. The sun never rose and the stars never lit. During the endless “today” Meng Mo taught Luo Binghe how to control dreams and walk through people's minds. For years, if not centuries, Meng Mo caught many souls in his net, and now he gave them to Luo Binghe for fun. The old man longed for blood, death and torment, but Luo Binghe passed through the echoes of other people's thoughts, not stopping — why should he care about those who did not harm him?

“You can walk in dreams. Dreams can be controlled. Deprive a person of sleep, and in a few days he will go crazy.”

But dreams, Meng Mo taught, are far more than just visions. They are thoughts and desires, the very ones that you fulfill while standing on your knees. You will be able to destroy desires and create those that are convenient.

Meng Mo taught Luo Binghe other magic as well. Luo Binghe saw gods and spirits do it, and there were books written about it. And Meng Mo taught him how to control the energy in his body.

But in fact, Meng Mo was trying to teach Luo Binghe to be selfish and live for his own sake.

“Why do I need this?” Luo Binghe asked irritably, interrupting another endless stream of insults towards Shen Jiu. “He did nothing wrong to me.”

“He doesn't value you.”

“And you use me. If I break the walls, you'll be the first to run away.”

And Luo Binghe closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall back. A bright light leaked through his closed eyelids, and then his body was filled with pain.

...Luo Binghe could barely open his eyes. He felt not only pain, but also a terrible weakness.

“Happy birthday, Binghe,” Shen Jiu still gently held his hand. There was no more cast on it, but a transparent tube connected it to the bag on the metal post. Luo Binghe didn’t know how these things were called correctly, but this was what people in hospitals usually had: tubes in their hands, detectors and a bunch of squeaking devices. Fortunately, he only had a tube in his hand.

“But my birthday is in December.”

It took Luo Binghe a few tries before he managed to say this. His voice wheezed and didn’t obey, and his tongue felt too big.

“It's December already, Binghe. You slept almost for half a year.”

Shen Jiu brought him a glass and helped him drink, and then sat down next to the bed and took Luo Binghe’s hand again.

“You have changed. You are no longer a human.”

“I know.”

“I am sorry this happened to you.”

“Nothing in this world is a coincidence. Everything is predetermined,” Luo Binghe felt strange when he said these words. They did not belong to him, and now they rushed to their true master.

“Yes,” Shen Jiu squeezed his fingers a little, and then let go. “You know, it's a solar eclipse right now.”

Luo Binghe turned his head to the window and through thin curtains saw a black circle of the sun surrounded by a white crown.

The clock ticked clearly in silence, counting every second. Only two minutes, and the room was bright with winter light, which happens only if there is a lot of snow in the street. Luo Binghe thought how colourful his room was: book spines, flowers in the vase, light green wallpaper and a checkered plaid with which he was covered. Even the furniture was made of different wood, light and dark, and it didn’t match at all, but he liked it.

“I missed you,” Luo Binghe confessed, lost in his thoughts.

Meng Mo helped him, but could not instil in Luo Binghe his hatred, which he felt for the guise of Shen Qingqiu. After all, Shen Qingqiu was not real — Shen Jiu was.

“By the way, you owe me for the time that I had to look after your body,” Shen Jiu replied with a grin.

Luo Binghe only smiled.


	6. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a teacher Shen Jiu was no better than he was as a cook. He lacked patience and, in fact, any wish to teach.

Luo Binghe was learning to walk again. Sure his body has changed, nevertheless he remained more a human than a supernatural creature, and he spent almost six months bedridden.

Getting up for the first time was difficult, almost impossible. Shen Jiu and Ning Yingying supported him and helped him out into the courtyard. There Luo Binghe collapsed on a blanket spread on the veranda and looked at the swirling snowflakes. For the second year in a row they had white Christmas.

“You will freeze,” Shen Jiu sat next to him and covered Luo Binghe with another blanket. Then he moved Luo Binghe’s head to his lap. “We need to feed you, you look like a skeleton.”

“I need to feed myself, you want to say,” Luo Binghe smiled.

He felt strange tranquillity. Maybe it was the weather, or maybe a long dream.

Or maybe the lessons from Meng Mo. The first one was the knowledge that you can control others only if you are completely in control of yourself. Turn into a smiling mask and the world will be yours. People will see in you what they long for most. Give them hope and put them on a leash.

“You got bolder,” Shen Jiu touched his forehead.

When Luo Binghe was strong enough to at least sit in the bed, Shen Jiu brought him a mirror, and Luo Binghe saw a scarlet sign burned on his forehead, like the one that Shen Jiu gave him.

“Heavenly Demons usually have such marks, Binghe. But you are not a demon, not a god, or a man. You are something new.”

Again in Luo Binghe's head a hoarse senile voice laughed ending in a long croak. But instead of the raven god, a healer came to them, Mu Qingfang. Shen Jiu said that it was he who treated Luo Binghe's wounds after the incident and that he had been watching him all these months.

Whether Mu Qingfang was a spirit or a deity, Luo Binghe did not know. In the moonlight the horns on his head, entwined with flowers, seemed silvery, and therefore his tall figure with warm brown eyes reminded Luo Binghe of a noble deer.

“The boy needs exercise, shidi.”

Sometimes it slipped between Shen Jiu, Qi Qingqi and Liu Qingge. They called each other brothers and sister, those old-fashioned honorifics that nowadays could be heard in dramas or movies. And they all shared this “qing” in the name.

There were more puzzles in the shop than one person could solve in his entire life. What a pity Luo Binghe didn’t care about them at all.

But he liked the way Shen Jiu cared for him. How he made food for him, although both he and Ning Yingying were terrible cooks, yet the intention was what made it pleasant.

Now they looked from the veranda at the slowly circling snowflakes, and Shen Jiu absently stroked Luo Binghe’s hair.

“I will teach you how to handle your new strength,” he promised. “It will be a birthday present.”

“You didn't give me presents before.”

Instead, Shen Jiu pulled him by a strand. Luo Binghe didn’t say that he already knew everything.

As a teacher Shen Jiu was no better than he was as a cook. He lacked patience and, in fact, any wish to teach. He was angry when Luo Binghe didn’t understand things that he explained right away, quickly lost interest and usually just left Luo Binghe with books and scrolls. But most importantly — there was not a shadow of Meng Mo's greed in what Shen Jiu was trying to teach Luo Binghe.

Shen Jiu talked about harmony, how nothing in the world happened by accident and never would. Each action requires a response. You cannot escape fate, only fool it for a short time, but one day fate will come to collect its debts.

“Have you ever cheated, Luo Binghe?”

“No.”

“No, of course not. Consciously,” Shen Jiu put a fan between them. “Tell me — what you see when you stand behind my shoulder while I listen to all these miserable people?”

Dislike of people was probably the only thing Shen Jiu had in common with Meng Mo.

“Indifference,” Luo Binghe began, “Sometimes contempt. Pity. You are burdened by helping them, but you never refuse.”

“I know my duty. What do you see on this fan?”

“Bamboo forest, as behind our house.”

“What do you see here, Luo Binghe?” Shen Jiu repeated with unusual patience for him.

“Our house, behind the trees.”

“Good. Always remember that you are free to leave whenever you want, Binghe.”

Maybe Luo Binghe didn’t have to talk about Meng Mo, because Shen Jiu guessed it himself.

Soon Shen Jiu asked the raven god to teach Luo Binghe sword fighting — said it was useful for concentration. He added with a grin that Liu Qingge should be responsible.

“You will never be a raven, boy,” Liu Qingge told. His back was perfectly straight, but he looked relaxed. “But I will not let my name be dishonoured.”

“I'm Luo, not Liu.”

Luo Binghe twirled a wooden sword in his hands. He saw at school how people practiced in the martial arts club, how they repeated the same moves and standing positions over and over.

This, as Luo Binghe later realized, was not the martial arts that the raven god believed in.

His life was full of lessons: during the day he spent time with Shen Jiu, in the evenings sometimes he was visited by Liu Qingge, and at night Meng Mo came to his dreams. He seemed younger, freed, but remained a squalid, evil old man.

“A-Luo, are you going to return to school? Everyone misses you.”

It was April when Ning Yingying asked. She often visited Luo Binghe — Shen Jiu didn’t give him an explanation. Ning Yingying was like a bird twittering about school affairs, about her friends, whom she also considered Luo Binghe's friends, about what books she read and what films she watched. She lived an ordinary life where the biggest problems were boys and grades.

How far he was from all these worries.

“I don't know,” Luo Binghe clasped his hands in his lap. “I missed too much.”

“Everyone knows how much you were injured after that earthquake! Master Shen went to school and warned that you were in a coma... But almost four months have passed, A-Luo, haven't you fully recovered?”

She playfully pulled his hand. Luo Binghe knew that he had grown and gained weight. Now he looked much healthier than before the fall. When he again could firmly stand on his feet, he undressed and stood in front of the mirror for a long time. He was so thin back then that it was amazing how his soul still agreed to remain in the bones covered in paperlike skin, thin and dry. He ate and practiced a lot, ran around the area early in the morning, did push-ups and squats. Liu Qinghe even set about explaining something to him, but he had even less patience than Shen Jiu.

Sometimes Shen Jiu, who usually slept in, unless they had early guests, would meet him after jogging with a towel.

“I'll think about it,” Luo Binghe said just to reassure Ning Yingying and close this topic.

“You should go to this school. Train yourself a herd,” Meng Mo told him that night in a dream. “Build an army.”

“I don't need an army,” Luo Binghe called out in a bored voice. “Unless for large-scale cleaning of the shop.”

“But you need him.”

Meng Mo wove the figure of Shen Jiu from the shadows in front of them, in ceremonial robes, with ugly twisted lips and evil eyes. He fanned himself and drank wine from a small cup. Luo Binghe changed him, turning from Shen Qingqiu to Shen Jiu, not evil, but displeased, and with a stormy sky in his eyes.

“Fool. He will never let you get closer.” Meng Mo dispelled the illusion, hardly glancing at it. “You must take him by force if you so wish.”

“I don't want to,” Luo Binghe answered calmly and woke up.

That morning, when he returned from a run, Shen Jiu was waiting for him in robes that Luo Binghe liked more than others — from heavy fabric, it folded beautifully on the floor, and when he moved it seemed that herons, carefully painted on a green background, were about to take off. Shen Jiu’s hair was combed up and held with silver hairpins, with bunches of emeralds and pearls.

“We need to talk, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu said.

Why take by force if you can just ask?


	7. Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After that Shen Jiu said with impossible equanimity, as if his whole personality had suddenly frozen, “You have a wish, Binghe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to warn you that I wrote this chapter right after my minor surgery so I was high on painkillers :'D  
> And I didn't want to write papapa for them but smth went wrong but the most important, it was written just for the last sentence _(:3

Shen Jiu — Qingqiu — brought him to a new room. In all four years Luo Binghe had never been there. They sat down at a low table, and Shen Qingqiu poured them tea. He pushed a cup to Luo Binghe, so tiny and beautiful that he was afraid to take it so as not to inadvertently break it. After that Shen Jiu said with impossible equanimity, as if his whole personality had suddenly frozen, “You have a wish, Binghe.”

“Nothing has changed,” Luo Binghe replied calmly. “I just want to stay here with you. Please do not drive me away,” he swallowed, feeling small and helpless again.

“How old are you now?” Shen Qingqiu suddenly changed the subject as if hearing Luo Binghe’s thoughts. Interesting, Luo Binghe thought, but did Shen Jiu know how to walk through dreams? Probably not, Meng Mo would know.

“Sixteen.”

“How long do you live with me?”

“Almost four years.”

“For these four years you should have learned that as long as you have a wish the doors will always be open for you. Now,” Shen Qingqiu turned the fan in his hand, but didn’t hide his face as usual, “Tell me, how old I am, do you think?”

“I do not know. I don't think you have any age at all,” Luo Binghe muttered.

“You are very close.” Shen Qingqiu bowed his head, and one strand slipped and lay on his shoulder. Under the stiff collar his thin neck seemed completely white. “Nothing has changed, you said, but nonetheless, we both know that you have changed. The blood in your veins is not just divine. So tell me, what do you want?”

“You,” and Luo Binghe looked Shen Qingqiu directly in the eyes. “Not only to live here with you, but also to have you.”

“You have to clarify, Luo Binghe,” Shen Jiu dropped his mask and became restless. His eyes darkened like the sky before a storm.

“I don't know how to describe it. I just want all of you. But I have no right to ask for this, and I couldn’t offer an equal payment.”

“On the contrary, you ask too little,” Shen Jiu suddenly laughed. “We can start with something simple, so that the shop calms down.”

Moving gracefully, he rose and untied the belt on his robes. Shen Jiu took off layer after layer until he was naked before Luo Binghe. He did not wear any underwear. Without clothes, for some reason, Shen Jiu at once became less like a man and more like an unknown deity.

He was very thin, but with outlines of firm muscles under his skin. The dark strand was still lying on Shen Jiu’s shoulder, shading the whiteness of his skin. He had no other hair on his body at all.

Luo Binghe examined him for a long time, at the same time terribly shy and unable to stop.

“Let's go,” Shen Jiu shifted from one foot to another and shivered. “I'm freezing”.

Luo Binghe got up and came closer, for the first time noticing that they were almost the same height. Shen Jiu took his hand and led Luo Binghe to the far corner of the room, to a door that wasn’t there before. Behind it was an ordinary bedroom, bright and airy. There was nothing but a wide low bed, a dressing table and a closet in the wall. The doors leading to the street were open, and Luo Binghe saw a bamboo forest and a pond with carps.

Shen Jiu led him to the bed and pulled off his sweatshirt. Then he knelt down, and the sight of his bowed head made Luo Binghe’s mouth dry. He reached for his T-shirt, and Shen Jiu unzipped his jeans and pulled it down with his underwear.

“You have grown up,” Shen Jiu remarked with strange amusement, and Luo Binghe became embarrassed. He tried to hide with his hands, but Shen Jiu pushed them away and ordered, “Lie down.”

Luo Binghe obediently climbed onto the bed and lay on his side. He felt strange and didn’t know what to expect. Maybe it was a dream made by Meng Mo? But Luo Binghe knew how to shield his mind, and the old man couldn’t get there. But this could not be reality either.

Sure Luo Binghe sometimes masturbated, and in his thoughts Shen Jiu sometimes appeared, but nothing serious — their shared touches, a bowed head and lips reddened with wine. Luo Binghe never imagined him naked and never thought about sex for real — not only with Shen Jiu but in general.

Shen Jiu stretched out next to him on his back and threw one hand behind his head. Luo Binghe thought that it’s good that Shen Jiu still has his hair combed. He probably would have been uncomfortable otherwise.

“You can kiss me,” Shen Jiu said, looking at Luo Binghe from under his eyelashes.

Luo Binghe moved awkwardly, quickly touched Shen Jiu’s lips with his and pulled back when he caught a quiet laugh.

“You can be bolder, Binghe, this is your wish.”

Not mine, Luo Binghe objected in his thoughts. It’s  _ your _ wish.

Shen Jiu pulled Luo Binghe’s hand, forcing him to lie atop Shen Jiu, grabbed Luo Binghe's face with his hands and kissed him, wet and obscene. Shen Jiu’s body was cold, and his mouth and tongue were hot, and when their kiss ended, Luo Binghe could barely breathe.

“Am I not too heavy?” He asked, looking at Shen Jiu's reddened lips. Almost like after wine, and it was intoxicating as well.

“You are warm,” Shen Jiu smiled, sated, like a cat after eating cream. “Kiss me again.”

And again, and again, and again, until Luo Binghe dared to kiss Shen Jiu’s neck, between his collarbone and above the heart.

“I want you to feel good,” Luo Binghe said, resting his head on Shen Jiu’s stomach. He didn’t feel his body reacting, although Luo Binghe's cock was hard for some time now and painfully demanded a touch.

“Ain’t there too many wishes?” again Shen Jiu laughed softly and stroked Luo Binghe’s hair. “I feel good with you,” he assured.

Luo Binghe stood up and sat on his heels. He ran his palm across Shen Jiu’s chest to his hollow abdomen and carefully closed his fingers around Shen Jiu’s soft cock. His caress was simple and unsophisticated, but after some time Shen Jiu’s cock hardened in his palm, and then Luo Binghe leaned back and guided it into his mouth. He saw such things in magazines his classmates brought, and in manhuas that they read secretly on their phones. And this was supposed to feel pleasurable because after all, Luo Binghe rather wanted to give Shen Jiu pleasure than be satisfied himself.

He sucked Shen Jiu's cock and licked it like an ice-cream, but compared to an ice-cream Luo Binghe enjoyed it a lot more.

“Binghe, stop it,” Shen Jiu suddenly sat up and pushed Luo Binghe’s shoulder. The emptiness in his mouth caused a strange disappointment.

“But you feel good.” Luo Binghe liked how Shen Jiu's hips trembled under his palms, how he sighed quietly and breathed often, trying to maintain his calm appearance.

Shen Jiu softly kissed him.

“Perhaps even too good. I can do the same for you.”

“Don't,” Luo Binghe quickly refused. “Better just ... by hand.”

He knew that his cock was big. Perhaps even too big, and the other guys in his place would probably be incredibly proud, but Luo Binghe didn’t want to cause any inconvenience and discomfort for Shen Jiu.

“As you say.”

Shen Jiu licked his fingers, pointedly putting them in his mouth and drawing his tongue, and then closed his palm around Luo Binghe's cock — tried to, at least, but his fingers barely touched.

“I could put it in my mouth if you worry about it,” Shen Jiu remarked, caressing Luo Binghe's cock with his fingertips. “And not just in my mouth.”

“No,” Luo Binghe gasped, panting from an unusual affection. Shen Jiu methodically moved his hand, leading him to orgasm. Sometimes he stopped and rubbed his head with his thumb, wetting his fingers with Luo Binghe’s precum. “It’s so ...” Luo Binghe started, but then Shen Jiu leaned over and closed his lips around Luo Binghe’s cock. His hand squeezed Luo Binghe’s balls, and Luo Binghe came with a stifled cry. He fell back on the bed, trying to catch his breath.

“And you doubted,” Shen Jiu reproached him. He collected sperm from his lips with his tongue, but some remained on his cheeks and chest. Luo Binghe blushed at the view. “It wasn’t enough for you,” Shen Jiu stroked his still erected cock. “You can fuck me if you want, or I can repeat what I just did.”

“Not now, but .. I would like you to do it.” He couldn’t figure out the expression on Shen Jiu's face, something between surprise and disappointment. “Later. Lie down with me for now?”

Shen Jiu settled down beside him, and Luo Binghe laid his head on his chest. They covered themselves with a blanket because even now Shen Jiu remained cold and trembled. Perhaps they should close the doors.

“Your heart is not beating,” Luo Binghe realized suddenly. He listened and listened, but there was nothing. Shen Jiu's chest rose and fell to the beat of his breath, but nothing more.

“Hearts beat only with the living, Binghe, didn't you know?”


	8. New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s the payment. Refund if you want. After taking something you need, you then must return something of equal value. And now my brother has been dead for many centuries, our other brothers and sisters have taken places among the gods and other powerful creatures, and I am here.”

Once upon a time magic reigned everywhere, and magical creatures walked the earth along with humans. Some were more gifted than the others — and people began to create schools where they cultivated their body and spirit. The gods descended from their heavenly palaces and instructed them, and also spirits, and other small deities, too.

And among all the cultivators there was one who was even invited to the heavenly halls, as gods respected his strength and wisdom. It was said that he could tear the space and travel to other dimensions, and he read all the books in the world.

“But he couldn’t,” Shen Jiu absentmindedly twisted a strand of Luo Binghe’s hair over his finger. “He was very powerful, but the truth is he performed only a few miracles in his life, and spent his time researching different things and teaching others what he knew. The gods were afraid of him and rejoiced at his simple way of life.”

“What were these miracles?”

“The first was his sword. A beautiful weapon that left its sheath only twice, and both times the earth shook. The second miracle was that with the said sword he killed the madman, the one who wanted to destroy the way of life that existed in those times and steal all magic from the world. And the third was this shop.”

Luo Binghe almost asked if that cultivator was Shen Jiu, but he suddenly realized that no, it wasn’t him, but someone else. In Shen Jiu’s voice he could hear bitterness and anger, mixed and cooled over the years, resentment against someone.

“Liu Qingge, Qi Qingqi, and even Shan Qinghua, that bum, can tell you many stories about other miracles if you ask. But what they will never tell anyone is that this hero had a younger brother, a shameful spot on their history.”

Shen Jiu’s hand in Luo Binghe's hair froze, and he raised his head. Shen Jiu's eyes became so clear that the irises were barely visible. All human warmth suddenly disappeared from his face, turning Shen Jiu into a mask of an evil spirit.

That brother, Luo Binghe guessed, was Shen Jiu.

“There was a grand battle. The cultivator’s last wish was to save his brother’s life, a weak cripple, but even that cultivator could not commit such assault against the universe. So the shop appeared.”

Luo Binghe didn’t know what to say. He was not very good at that. I'm sorry? This will only infuriate Shen Jiu, and he can drive him away. Instead, he asked, “And what happened to the shop owner?”

“His time has stopped. He both exists and does not exist. This cannot be called either life or death.”

“What about wishes?”

“It’s the payment. Refund if you want. After taking something you need, you then must return something of equal value. And now my brother has been dead for many centuries, our other brothers and sisters have taken places among the gods and other powerful creatures, and I am here.”

With me, Luo Binghe thought, you are here — _with me_.

Instead, he took Shen Jiu's palm and brought it to his mouth, pressed his lips to Shen Jiu’s wrist. With his lips he clearly read Shen Jiu’s pulse, but his heart did not beat.

“I don’t understand.”

“That doesn't have to be understood, Binghe. Not everything in this world can be understood. Some things were just created wrong.”

This didn’t reassure Luo Binghe at all, but Shen Jiu suddenly began to play with his hair again, and Luo Binghe, drowsy with this simple caress, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

He was met with flames and cries of thousands of people dying in agony. The ground trembled underfoot and the sky was black and streaked with scarlet lightnings. Every now and then far away in the sky, new stars lit up. They circled like moths and quickly went out.

“How much garbage was burned then,” Meng Mo giggled disgustingly somewhere. “So we thought then, but our strength died away. Not only cultivators and gods but also demons have sunk into oblivion.”

“Take this away.”

Luo Binghe closed his eyes in a dream and went into another, with a bamboo forest and a small house. In the distance, the children laughed and the flute played quietly.

He looked out the window: Shen Jiu was playing xiangqi with someone who was sitting with his back to Luo Binghe.

He had no right to watch, so he returned to his dreams again. But Meng Mo led a pretty dance with him for some time, showing pictures of the past, until Luo Binghe, completely tired, pushed him away and woke up.

...They changed their position, and now Shen Jiu was lying next to Luo Binghe, leaning against him sideways, like a cat that clings to warmth. Luo Binghe pulled the blanket higher, covering Shen Jiu’s white shoulder, and admired him. Sleep made Shen Jiu softer and sadder, and therefore more beautiful. Luo Binghe wanted to hug him.

From where he was lying he saw the night sky with a soft bright stroke of the Milky Way; above the shop, the sky always seemed otherworldly, with no city lights to hide it.

“Close the door, it's cold,” muttered Shen Jiu and, despite his words, moved closer. Luo Binghe brushed away Shen Jiu’s hair that fell on his face, not daring to kiss, and cautiously got out from under the covers, trying not to let in any cool air.

Naked as he was, Luo Binghe went out onto the veranda and listened to the rustle of leaves. For some reason, he thought that after the incident the world would somehow change, but it was he who changed. It’s true that people always think they are more significant than they really are. 

For some time Luo Binghe stayed there and then came back, sliding the doors behind him. He walked to the bed along the path of light from the window. Shen Jiu lay quietly and motionless, pale and bluish shadows on his cheekbone, but he didn’t resemble a corpse at all.

Luo Binghe lay down beside him, and Shen Jiu instantly ended up in his hands. How many times did Luo Binghe fall asleep and wake up, lulled by his presence nearby?

He was ready that in the morning everything that had happened would turn out just a delusion, but the sunshine caressed Shen Jiu's white hand on Luo Binghe's chest, warming it with gold.

“Good morning,” Shen Jiu smiled lazily at him, and then his hand slipped under the covers and embraced Luo Binghe's cock.

“No need,” Luo Binghe blushed and wanted to pull away, but Shen Jiu moved his hand and Luo Binghe’s body became heavy with excitement.

When Luo Binghe came, Shen Jiu threw back the blanket and wiped his hand on it. Not letting Luo Binghe touch him, Shen Jiu quickly got up and put on his robe, not bothering to tie his belt.

“Breakfast, Binghe.”

“What do you want?” Luo Binghe also got up, and Shen Jiu threw a robe over his shoulders — black with scarlet embroidery on the collar.

“On your choice.”

Luo Binghe stepped out onto the veranda and looked around. In the sunlight Shen Jiu, dishevelled and half-naked, looked like a pornographic fantasy. Luo Binghe swallowed and hurried to his room.

They had two visitors that day — they came almost one after another, a little girl in a bright polka-dot cloak and a handsome man with grey hair and a neat beard. The girl asked for a gift for her mother; Shen Jiu later said that her mother was dying from cancer, and this gift was more for the girl herself than for her mother. The man wanted no one to know about the death of his wife. He loved her so much that he refused to bury her and kept the embalmed corpse in their house.

“Binghe,” Shen Jiu called in the evening. They sat on the veranda and waited for Liu Qingge and Liu Mingyan to visit. The dusty jars of wine that Luo Binghe brought from the cellar had already been prepared nearby. “Do you remember your first wish?”

Luo Binghe shrugged, “To be with you.” 

Shen Jiu did not answer, and Luo Binghe thought that he might have been mistaken in the wording. Back then he was still a child, after all, how many years ago it happened?

“For the first time since my brother tied me to this place, I do not want to die,” Shen Jiu said suddenly, and Luo Binghe startled. “His salvation, which I never asked for, turned into my curse, and he died. And which of us is a coward after that?”

Luo Binghe was silent. What could he, who lived for less than seventeen years, answer to a man who suffered hundreds, if not thousands of years?

“I'll try, Binghe.”

Shen Jiu touched his hand and looked like he wanted to add something else, but the world was filled with the flapping of wings, and in a second an angry raven god was sitting next to them. Liu Mingyan stepped out of the pond.

Luo Binghe left them and went to the kitchen for dishes. They stayed almost until morning twilight, and Luo Binghe had to go to the cellar for new wine bottles three more times, and in the end Liu siblings stayed for the night.

“Where are you going?” Shen Jiu asked sleepily when Luo Binghe turned to go to his room.

Shen Jiu quietly walked over and hugged Luo Binghe from the behind, pressed his cheek to his shoulder. His voice sounded completely unusual, quiet and almost plaintive, “Stay with me.”

Luo Binghe wasn’t sure that his heart was still beating. Would he ever be able to pay for this?

This time Luo Binghe led Shen Jiu and undressed him too. From these touches his body became soft and heavy again, and hot.

“You changed the sheets, wait,” and Shen Jiu gracefully knelt before him.

Luo Binghe didn’t allow him to do this yesterday, but this time Shen Jiu didn’t ask. He closed his lips around Luo Binghe’s cockhead and began to suck and lick, caressing the rest with his palm. The soft pink light of the rising sun colour made his cheeks peachy and his lips scarlet. Luo Binghe tried not to look down, going crazy with wet heat, but his gaze invariably returned to Shen Jiu. When he was close, Shen Jiu released his cock from his mouth, and Luo Binghe’s cum sprayed on his cheeks and lips. Luo Binghe closed his eyes; in just two days he had gained so much material for fantasies ...

“Now go to sleep,” Shen Jiu got up and walked away to the dresser on which, in the old fashioned way, stood a jug of water and a small basin.

While he was washing, Luo Binghe lay down. When Shen Jiu settled down with his back to Luo Binghe’s chest, he realized that this was already familiar; as if it always had been like this.

And, he asked, let it always be so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A LOT OF LOVE FOR MY FRIEND WHO BETAED THIS MONSTER YOU ARE THE BEST ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> And thank you all for all your kind words!!!
> 
> Honestly they supposed to have a sadder and darker ending but it was around New Year + the pain after surgery made me weak and soft so _(:3_)_ And I wrote it not very clear but Bunhe doesn't really remember his first wish because some of his memories were taken as part of his bargain.


End file.
